User blog:My blood smells like the ocean XD/Dreams of disaster
Sometimes I really hate being a demigod. Times include: DREAMS!!!!! I have analyzed every angle of this one, and only one possibility seems the most probable. A Fortelling. A Premonition. Whatever you wanna call it, it isn't good. I wrote it all down before I could forget it. It's kinda long, but I think it's important. To understand fully I had to put in a little background stuff on my life in general. Here it goes. “Common Mom, I’m gonna be late for school!” I shouted across the apartment, pacing back-and-forth in front of the door. “Shut up! The world does not revolve around you. I am late for work as well, just wait a few seconds.” Came the reply. Of course, I’m to blame because she just had to change her outfit five times, and then spend forever in the bathroom. My fault, sorry mom. So of course, I was late for school, again. I was good at school, 4.0 freshman. Believe it or not, I like school. Yes, I’m one of those weirdoes. Don’t get me wrong, high school sucked, but I like learning. Put a book in front of me, I’m all over it. Call me crazy, but what I learned in those books kept me alive. Otherwise, the day went by normal. I went through my classes, kicked butt in team sports (otherwise known as P.E., or gym, my school was just stupid), aced French, went all-star in choir. At dance I got multiple compliments from Gaiane Akopian (a very famous retired prima ballerina origianally from Russia) and no corrections. In repertoire I was asked (again, Mrs.Gaiane was the insructor) again to demonstrate for the class how to properly do different sections of our variations of Swan Lake. Yeah, over-achiever, sue me if you don’t like it. I’d just love to see the judge laugh in your face. I always knew I was different, even from a young age. On the surface, I looked and acted, in different aspects, like my parents. But look even a hair under the calm waters of the ocean, and you have the busiest, most diverse place on Earth that can be found. If even one thing is different, it could change something as small as one less fish, or as big as a tsunami that could wipe out a whole continent. I looked like a normal child. I guess that was the whole point. What would be the point of protection if I stuck out like a peacock in the desert? Tall, long blond hair that would change to light brown in the winter. When I was younger, my eyes were always this really bright blue, but around age five, they started changing. First it was grey, then a green grey. By the age of seven, and for many years after, they settled on this odd green ringed in dark grey. I was always skinny, and very pale. Away from my physical description is where it got weird. For my age, I was always more mature than everyone else. I’ve always been rather conservative, but quick to catch on to anything. I loved reading, and was not big on technology. The rest of my family was the complete opposite. That should have been my first clue. I loved classics such as Don Quixote, To Kill a Mockingbird, The Odyssey, The Iliad, The Secret Garden, Call of the Wild, and White fang. On the out-of-this-world side books on legends and myths always caught my imagination, as well as books on magic, like talking animals, and dragons. The rest of my family, the best read they had ever been was Green Eggs and Ham as a child. All their other books were used to boost up the computer desk so it was even. I loved musicals, and ballets. They loved games like World of War craft, and Halo. All this does not seem too odd. There is the occasional child who has different interests than those they were raised around. But then there were the odd experiences, feelings, and dreams. I never really believed in the supernatural, it was always science. But these things, no matter where I looked, I could never find an explanation. I always just blamed my over-active imagination. But now I know it was all real, warnings and premonitions of the future. My un-explained sudden burst in talent for dancing, going from horrible to one of the best in class, and an increase in flexibility, agility, grace, and stamina. I could always tell when something was wrong, or would be, and who it would generally involve. I could tell you when a storm was coming without looking at the weather. Then the dreams. Such odd dreams. An e-mail from someone I didn’t know (at least as of now), but was important, a battle raging around me on the beach with me standing in the water. Not even a normal battle, but one like you would find at the Renaissance festival or something like that. Then the voices speaking to me during the dreams. They told me I had a decision to make, I would change the world, I was more important than anyone. The complete opposite of what I knew of. I was raised around abuse. Both physical and psychological. Even from a young age, I was treated like a slave. I made dinner, did the dishes, did the laundry, did the basic house/yard upkeep, everything, while my parents lazed around watching TV or on the computer. All from the age of four. Everything was blamed on me. If the computer overheated, it was my fault. If we were running late, or the car broke down, it was my fault. But of course nobody ever knew. Even my half-siblings, and later my nieces, who were the only family that loved me, and knew what my parents were capable of, never saw it. Not that they would have. The physical abuse was always in spots nobody would see. My stomach, back, upper legs, ect. Places that were always covered. Anything anywhere else was blamed on a trip or something like that. It went from a slip on the ice to the knife slipped when I was cutting an apple, or I got too close to the camp fire, or wasn’t careful enough when I was taking dinner out of the oven. If I didn’t do something right, huge beatings, that nobody would ever know about. If I made a sound, they would knock me out for the rest. Waking up from a bad dream was no different. '' ''It was obvious I had been on the run for days. My cloths were dirty and torn, and I smelled like I had slept in the sewer. Perhaps I had. It was twilight, and I could barely see a thing, and I was weakening. It could have been the waning light, or maybe my lack of sleep and constant running, or the fear of being caught, always looking over my shoulder. Whatever it was, I was in trouble, because when I looked over my shoulder I saw the pack of whatever was chasing me today. I squinted, trying to figure out what it was this time. Too big to be a dog, or even a human for that matter. Then it detached itself from the shadows of the forest and walked into the small clearing I was almost through. I’m not even joking, but it was a hellhound. I know what your thinking, “she’s been reading too much Percy Jackson stuff”, but no. This thing was the size of two tanks stacked on top of each other, covered in black fur, with huge, deep-set red eyes glaring out at me. Then, it lifted its upper lip, and growled. Behind it came the minotaur, followed by what I guessed to be the Furies, considering there was three of them, all with the heads of old ladies. I blinked, hoping the day must had caught up to me, and I was drifting of into la-la land. When I opened my eyes again, still there. Not good. But I was done. No more running. I was tired, hungry, cold, and weak. I had no weapons. But I did have my brains, and my fists, and feet. And my anger was enough to keep me running for a few more minutes. If I went down, I would go down fighting. I stopped and turned. They stopped, and grinned. That was never good. They knew they had me. Then the front fury spoke. “Hello sweetie. You are smart to stop running. It really does you no good. We were never planning on hurting you; you just need to see someone.” Allecto. Had to be. And how did I reply? “Fuck off. I’ll go with you as soon as I want to serve the evil that has corrupted you. I know. And I’m going to make sure the gods know too. I’m sure Lord Pluto won’t be happy when he finds out you have turned on him, and are acting away from his orders. Hello to Tartarus and the fields of punishment!” Smart ass. Figures. I never did think before I spoke. I really should have in this case, ‘cause all it did was piss ‘em off. They came at me full speed. I ducked under the hellhound (not that hard to do) and punched him in the stomach as hard as I could. When I came out the Minotaur was snorting in my face. “Hello ugly. Wanna dance?” I dove around his left side and rolled back up onto my feet. The first thing that caught my eyes was a tree ten times as big around as I was tall. Perfect. I ran towards it. When I was a few yards away the roots became my enemy. I slowed down slightly so I wouldn’t trip over them. Here is where my ballet training came in handy. At the last second I did a quick faille*, setting my left foot in front of my right, then saut de chat* to finish getting around the tree. Perfect landing. Why couldn’t I do that in class? Oh well, it worked. Big stupid and ugly had his horns stuck in the tree. “Do we have to do everything ourselves? Get her.” Damn Allecto. Damn her for all eternity, I was doing well until they came in. One of them grabbed me by the legs, pinning them in place. Another grabbed my upper body, pinning my arms to my sides. So much for defenses. I squirmed as much as I could, trying to get free, but to no avail. Allecto rushed in and lifted the three of us off the ground, digging her claws into me. I screamed in pain. “You’re coming with us whether you like it or not.” Finally I broke free. Unfortunately it was a twenty foot fall. I don’t know how I survived it, but right then, I didn’t care. I got up, and ran for it. It sounds cowardly, and even now I’m ashamed, but there was no way I could keep going. I don’t know how long I ran for, it felt like forever, but when I looked back, they were still following. Then I realized what they were doing: tiring me out. They were not even trying to catch up to me, and I did not have long left until I crashed. Then some buddies joined them. Human. Or as human as evil spawn can get. Damn. Bows and spears. Not to mention the swords. Oceanic steal, Celestial bronze, Stygian Iron, normal Iron, and multiple deadly mixes of the four. I ran faster, gasping for breath and trying to ignore the pain from all my injuries. Looking over my shoulder I saw that my pursuers were right behind me. I put on an extra burst of speed (though I have no idea where it came from) feeling every limb in my body screaming in pain. Being on the run, fighting for my life every day did not agree with my dancing body. Different muscles are used for ballet than ones that are used trying to stay alive on the run for weeks on end, with the added danger of every type of monster from your worst dreams following you. Every one of them, I learned the hard way, with some way of being extremely deadly. Weather it be poison, or speed, or strength, or agility, or wicked sharp talons, I saw it all within those few weeks. Suddenly, my goal came into view. A safe haven. I ran even faster, faster than should have been possible for my drop dead tired limbs, and then fell a few yards short of safety. Unimaginable pain, unlike that I had ever felt before, blossomed throughout my back. In the distance someone screamed, and I realized it was me. I twisted around to see what had happened, and saw an arrow protruding from my back, and the blood pouring out of my body was mixed with green, and was bubbling and hissing like crazy. '' ''“Poisoned. Cheaters” was the last thing I remembered, then, blackness. *Faille- The dancer springs into the air, landing on the front foot with the back foot raised. The back foot then slides through to the front. During the spring the body is turned slightly inwards towards the front foot with the face turned away. *Saut de chat- A long horizontal jump, starting from one leg and landing on the other. Known as a split in the air. It is most often done forward and usually involves doing full leg splits in mid-air. The front leg is brought up to the knee and extended out. The back leg follows making the splits in the air. That's when I woke up. I was tangled in my blankets and covered in sweat with my face burried in my pillow. I cut off a scream just in time to avoid a beating. Opinions please. Whatever this is, it isn't good. Not at all. Category:Blog posts